Mamihlapinatapai
by DieZeitVergeht
Summary: So yes, it's freaking hard growing up in a town where no one accepts you, but you know what's harder? Living in a town where they do; where they expect it. Brittany knows she doesn't belong in this place...now how's she going to get out? Utopia/dystopia, AU.


_**Title**: Mamihlapinatapai  
**Paring**: Brittana  
**Rating**: PG-13 (because of language)  
**Summary**: a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other will offer something that they both desire but are unwilling to suggest or offer themselves._

**A/N: **I told myself I wouldn't write again, but what can you do when you're hit by the writing bug? I've tried something extremely different than anything I've written before. I hope you all enjoy it!

_~/~  
_

_Mamihlapinatapai – a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other will offer something that they both desire but are unwilling to suggest or offer themselves. _

\\

You know, yes obviously it fucking sucks growing up in a town where people can't accept you for whom you may be.

They won't love you because you're gay; because you're lesbian.

They'll call you crazy if they see the scars and healing wounds littering your arms and legs and any patch of skin you could find.

They'll tease you and they'll taunt you because you actually like to read. Because you understand that maybe if you work hard in school you'll actually make a name for yourself in this messed up world.

No matter what you do, they'll find a way to pull you down. They'll get inside your head and ridicule you until you can't take it anymore.

You'll beg your parents to let you switch schools, switch states, switch fucking countries. But they won't understand either, will they?

Despite telling you they'd always love you, no matter what, even the slightest indication that you might love spending time with the same gender – loving the same gender – they'll throw you out of the house. You'll have to fend for yourself. No money. No food. Nothing.

If they see what you do to yourself in the quiet of your room, hours after they've fallen asleep, they'll put you right away, send you to the institute. Send you to therapy because you're crazy. You have to be for wanting to cause yourself pain like that.

The one thing they like though is that you're brilliant. You're smart and everything they've been hoping for. You can become a lawyer, a doctor, the CEO of a major corporation and make a shit ton of money that they can mooch off of because you're their offspring; they have that right.

So yes, it's fucking hard growing up in a town where no one accepts you, but you know what's harder? Living in a town where they do; where they _expect_ it.

You're a lesbian?

Oh let me set you up with that nice girl down the block!

Gay?

How about the nice boy next door?

You're a cutter?

I am too. Show me yours and I'll show you mine!

You're smart?

Everyone here is fucking smart. You're living in a town where literally no one has anything below a 4.0 GPA.

Everyone knows everyone else's business. They know who you've dated, for how long, why you broke up, and if it was civil or not.

No one messes up. It's almost like they're physically unable to fucking mess up.

The school is the top in the country. The one time someone got below an A- they were kicked out and sent across the country. No one has heard from him since, but there are rumors flittering around town that his parents were so embarrassed they fled the country leaving him alone in a city he's never known before.

A hairdresser accidently cuts a little too much off the end of your hair? It still looks perfect, and you realize that's actually what you wanted instead of what you told her in the first place.

No one in this town is allowed to compete in anything outside of city limits. The state got tired of your school winning every football, baseball, track, mathlete, science fair, band competition, or whatever the fuck it is that allow winners.

(No one is actually allowed to set foot outside the giant wall surrounding this place anymore.)

Every few years, city limits extend because no one actually fucking leaves this place. Instead of being that loser that can't get away from home, instead of being that deadbeat who won't amount to anything in his or her life, it's like you're stuck here.

You're parents have lived here, your grandparents, they're parents. You can literally track the generations down to the exact year in which your ancestors moved to this godforsaken place; founded this godforsaken place.

Ivy League colleges have stopped accepting rising freshmen. But it doesn't matter because you have your own university anyway. They accept anyone around the world (and anyone and everyone who thinks they're somewhat intelligent applies), but every senior at the high school is priority. In fact, there's an hour set aside the first week of school for seniors to complete their applications and send them in. Why we need them, you haven't figured out, we all go there anyway. (Don't ask about the girl that decided she wanted to go somewhere else last year).

You've spent your entire life here.

You know nothing else.

Until _she_ arrives.

\

She makes you want to get the fuck out of this place. She makes you think things the town would excommunicate you for. She makes you feel alive again. And by again you actually mean for the first time because she makes you see that you haven't actually lived at all yet.

You've lived in this 'perfect' place all your life (granted it's only been eighteen years, but who's actually counting?). You literally know nothing but this town, this society you've been born into. The society you've been _forced_ into.

You don't start thinking the thoughts of oppression and rebellion until this girl comes into your life. You don't usually think about what it would be like to leave the town, get the fuck away from the only thing you've ever actually known.

You begin to wonder what the world has to offer, instead of having your life planned for you since the day you were conceived, born, and thrown into the hustle and bustle of this town's small life.

\

This girl makes you realize, embarrassingly, that you've never met anyone that hasn't actually lived here their entire life. She's the first person you see upon setting foot in the college. It's like you're drawn to her.

It's because you've never seen her before.

Her skin tone is foreign.

Her hair.

Her body.

She's dark; brooding almost.

She looks reserved, but her face is confident. You start to realize she's probably the type of person that's had a rough past.

You haven't actually talked to her yet. But you can read people by a glance; it's kind of a curse sometimes.

Nothing will stop you from trying to get into her head. You want so badly to see who she is, where she comes from…why she's here. The first words you want to say to her are, "get out while you can (and maybe take me with you)," but that's not a great first impression is it?

You want to know everything about her.

Across the room your eyes meet and one word comes to your mind as your ocean eyes connect with her chocolate brown. _Mamihlapinatapai_.

You remember the first time you even learned that word. It derives from the Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego. Your best friend was telling you about it. He loves everything and anything that deals with language (you don't really care about anything besides being able to express yourself through dance – not that you're allowed to want that). You don't usually believe things like the literal translation of that long ass confusing word. You _usually_ don't believe in fate or finding love either.

Until now that is. It's really all you can think about.

Why Mamihlapinatapai?

You know you're willing this girl to be your ticket out of this place. You're willing her to leave and never look back. For some reason you don't want her to get sucked into this place like you have been.

But what about her?

What if she wants this place almost as bad as you want out?

_It's only a matter of time_ you grumble in your head.

She looks far too innocent for this town.

Passed the darkness and broodiness of her chocolate brown, almost black irises, her eyes are soft and questioning. It's almost like you can see straight through to her soul as you continue to burn your gaze into hers. At the same time you can see a wall, a defense mechanism hidden that makes her eyes just that much more mysterious.

You want to be the girl to break down those walls.

You stare and stare. You don't really realize until she blinks and you were broken of eye contact for that millisecond that you haven't thought about anything but her for who knows how long. You're supposed to be filling out some sort of forms that you can't remember, but now you realize that that's what this girl will do to you. She'll render you speechless and clear your mind of anything but her.

What is it about this girl that does things to you, that you never thought could happen?

You've never been speechless. You always have something to say, you're always thinking about some quirky thing. But this girl even stops those random thoughts running through your brain.

The only thing you're thinking right now is how those lips would feel pressed up against yours.

You're getting caught up in your thoughts now. You don't see her starting to saunter over to you. You don't notice the way your breath hitches in your throat as she comes closer and closer. You don't notice the slight smirk etched across her face as her eyes dart back and forth between yours. And you certainly don't notice when she's standing right fucking in front of you because you're too mesmerized by the emotions and mystery of her eyes.

She only says two words, but you're sure your heart has stopped beating anyway.

"You're staring."

You're convinced this girl is not human. She can't be. Her voice is too…indescribable. But then again, you think about how she's not from here. You only know the voices of, oh only everyone in town. You can tell who's talking to you, blindfolded and surrounded by hundreds of people in a dark crowed room.

Her voice sends shivers down your spine. And yes you are staring and you continue to.

And then she giggles and you swear you've died and gone to heaven.

You're supposed to be confident. You've never been _this_ tongue tied when talking to anyone in this town. Everyone knows you as the girl who gets who and what she wants with just the batting of your eyes and a whisper in an ear.

But this girl.

She reduces you to a ball of nothing. A mute.

You want to greet her with your sultry voice.

You want to tell her that she's stunning and beautiful and every other adjective used to describe how utterly breathtaking she is.

You just want to say _something_.

Nevertheless, you only continue to stare. You're still staring into her wonderful eyes and it undeniably pleases you that she's staring right back, now only a few feet in front of you. Your body registers nothing but that fact that she's within touching distance; the only thought repeating in your head is that she's so fucking close to you right now.

A few whispers steal your attention away from the goddess within arm's length and you know they're talking about you. You also know they're, unfortunately, talking about her too

They're whispering about you not saying anything. About how diffident you're being and how they can't believe you ever held that confidence you're desperately trying to summon up at the moment. What gets you most is that they're whispering about how she's not from here and how she'll never fit in.

She hears the whispers too, because really, these girls aren't trying to keep their voices low at all.

She turns around to walk away, and now you're thanking God for your quick reflexes because you've jumped up from the couch on which you've been sitting and you grab her smooth, caramel colored hand.

Slowly she turns to face you again and seriously it's almost as if there are magnets in your fucking eyes because they instantaneously lock once more. You can see the quick movements as her eyes are flickering, taking in every detail of your face and you know your eyes are doing the same.

You're examining and reading and doing everything you can to make her feel comfortable again with just one look because the smirk she was sporting fell into a frown, that you know shouldn't adorn her striking face.

You finally speak, having finally found your hidden vocal chords.

"Wait."

It's only one word and it doesn't even make sense in context anymore. She's already standing still again, for a few seconds too. She's looking at you, feet firmly planted upon the floor, not moving. Her hand is still grasped in yours. But you can't actually find yourself caring about how you probably should have said something else because you're too busy reveling in just how soft the skin of her hand is.

How is it that she can do this to you? I mean, seriously! It's hard enough believing this girl can completely render you speechless by staring into your eyes from across the room. Now her skin is burning to the touch or maybe it's just your skin that's on fire right now.

What was it that you had to do in this building again? Who knows…you just want to get out of here and take this girl with you. Where you'll go, you don't really know, but anywhere would be perfect.

You're still staring at this girl. You're still gripping her hand.

You don't even know her name and she doesn't know yours.

How long have you two been staring at each other?

How long will you continue to?

"Brittany Pierce? Dr. Holliday is ready for you!"

The chipper voice echoes out in the room you'd been waiting in. You turn your head to the source of the voice and see it's the woman at the secretary's desk. Oh yeah, you're supposed to be meeting with your advisor to go over the classes that you'll be taking this semester.

You sigh.

You don't want to go. You want to say "fuck it" and leave this place while taking this mystery girl with you.

Get out while you can…

You let her hand go, though. You open your mouth to say something, but she's quicker.

"It was nice to meet you, Brittany Pierce."

You could seriously listen to her talk for hours on end if you got to hear that voice every time. You feel yourself melt once more and almost forget why you were here again.

You don't say a word as she takes a pen from the bag you hadn't noticed. Why would you see anything else besides her beautiful face? She's uncapping the pen and grabbing your hand again. You watch the way she bites her lip as she traces what feel like random squiggles on your pale hand in her own.

Oh how you want to fucking kiss those lips.

"Ms. Pierce?" you really want to punch the woman for trying to pull you away from this goddess.

Way too soon for your liking, the girl pulls away, caps her pen, and puts the item back in her bag that you already forgot about. She giggles again, probably at the star-struck look that is no doubt painted on your face.

You're still staring at her; willing her not to leave you just yet.

She's at the door before you know it and she turns around one last time to send a confident wink to you before all you see is silky, dark hair disappearing behind a rapidly closing door.

As you enter Dr. Holliday's office, you look down at your hand.

"_S. L._" followed by what you're seriously hoping is her phone number.

You're smiling as you close the hardwood door behind you.

\\

You don't see her again.

Not for a day or two at least. _You_ see her again, but _she_ doesn't see you.

You also haven't mustered up enough courage to call her. Or even text her! You stored the number as soon as you sat in front of your advisor, Dr. Holly Holliday's desk, who had her chair turned around so she wasn't looking at you as you walked in.

It didn't matter, you were too distracted to pay that much attention during the meeting anyway.

Sometimes you find yourself just staring at her contact information in your phone. You know you're trying to force yourself to press the number and call her or open up a blank message to text her. But you don't know what to say. You've only said just one word to her and it barely even made sense.

You've never been this fucking nervous to talk to a girl.

You're thinking about how you're only eighteen. You pretty much have three years to find someone you can see yourself marrying, before your parents are arranging your marriage with the person of their choosing.

You hate that rule. Find someone on your own or marry the person you've basically been predestined to marry since day one. This isn't all negative. We don't necessarily get the right of other people in just knowing which gender you like, but the town is very accepting of women loving women and men loving men. Take my best friend, who is a guy. We all know his parents are pushing him to marry another guy, just a year older than us. We're theoretically allowed to choose on our own, but some of us know better.

No one tells you that everyone usually picks whom they're supposed to marry anyway, but you know. You've heard the rumors and you've read the old journals from the beginning of this town's existence. You would have been thrown out of the town had you gotten caught, but you didn't. Not many people know of the existence of these old journals, but your Great-Great Grandfather is one of the founding fathers.

You've basically been treated as royalty all your life because of it.

But you know better.

You've watched your mother and father push that Abrams boy on you. The Pierce's and the Abram's have long been the leading families in this town. It's been planned since day one, the eldest in the fifth generation would marry, procreate, and live happily ever after (you've read that too).

But you don't want whatever the fuck his name is. You don't want a boy to begin with.

You feel like you don't belong here because the way you think is so different from the way everyone else here thinks.

You're all supposed to be free.

You're all supposed to have these rights people outside of this town do not.

You're supposed to be a freaking utopia.

And maybe everyone in this fucking crazy town has all those things. Maybe this place is the utopia your elders were hoping for.

But to you, you are a pawn of predestined fate. You don't have the same right as everyone else. You live in a totalitarian society and nothing _you_ do will ever be right or acceptable for what this town wants.

You just want to dance.

You want to love girls (and one girl in particular).

But you can't.

You've never had the same rights as everyone else. You hate that your family was one of the founding. You hate that everyone loves you because of it. They don't know that you're miserable. They don't understand because they don't fucking know!

They don't know that they aren't living their lives the way they are choosing.

They don't fucking know that the _second_ their ancestors stepped foot into this town, their life was being written down, was being planned.

The elders have it down to a science now, but you realized early on that that's all this town is based upon.

You're not even supposed to know of the ways women have children outside this town. But you know, and you found out where you found out about everything else you know about where you live.

You what sex is supposed to mean outside of this place. But here, sex is just for you and your partner's pleasure. Nothing more, because women can't get pregnant that way anymore. They wanted everything to be fair for same gendered couples and opposite gendered couples.

If a couple wants a child, they go to the Hospital and Research Facility in the town center. You're not entirely sure what the process is, because only the men and women who've successfully reproduced know what goes on. You've seen the rooms however, because your parents pulled a string or two because you wanted a job there and anything you ask for (within reason), you get. You've tried to sneak in once or twice.

You know you won't fully know the complete process until you have a child of your own though.

You want to have children with the girl you literally can't get out of your head. Where that thought came from, you aren't entirely sure.

And then it hits you. You feel like you've been run over by five trucks, one after the other

This girl.

S. L. whatever the fuck that stands for...

You don't even know her fucking name! But you know someone important in this fucking deranged town does. Her future is probably written down now as this story is being told. The second she was accepted into the college here means she's never going to get out.

And you don't want that for her.

You want her to live her own life, the way it was fucking meant to happen.

She's not supposed to be here...

...or is she?

\\

You see her again. And this time she sees you too.

It's only a week later.

You're at the HRF, sitting at the front desk doing your shitty job. You can't complain though, you make pretty good pay (you pretend every time you get your pay check that they haven't 'accidently' raised your salary; five dollars above how much every other teenager who works here too makes. You know it's because of your lineage. And that's why you've been saving that extra money. Hopefully one day you'll get out and it'll be put to good use).

You wonder if she's here for an appointment with someone in the research end of the building. You don't have access to those files though, because you work for the hospital (not that it would really matter since you don't know her name). Only trained workers are allowed access to Research documents. But someone going to the Researchers who isn't originally from here, isn't necessarily a good thing.

You've only been there thrice in your life. All three times for your tri-annual contraception injection after turning thirteen.

She smiles at you when she sees you and you dumbly wave back with a silly grin on your face. When she goes over to your co-worker at the Research welcome desk, you're pretty damn sure your heart fucking stops beating.

You've heard rumors of what happens to the new members of the town.

Pretty much the only way to become a full citizen of this place is for a person to be tested on until their body's genetic makeup is exactly equivalent to everyone else's in town.

You don't want that to happen to her…you need to find a way to stop it, immediately.

You've come to realize that it's probably now or never. This is probably going to be your only chance out of this town. It'll be _her_ only chance.

As soon as she steps foot into the research room, she'll forget everything of which she remembers from back home wherever that may be. She'll be orphaned, her parents a thing of the past. Her decisions won't be hers anymore. She won't get to choose whom she loves because they'll set her up with another new citizen. She won't be able to physically have a child the way she's probably always planned to. She won't be _her_ anymore.

You want her to look at you again. You want to see her eyes once more, you want to get lost in them.

You know that look that you were so drawn to the first time you ever saw her will be gone once she comes back to the lobby. You know because no one in this fucking town has that sparkle of life in their eyes. No one has seen what she has and she's about to lose it all and doesn't even realize it.

No one else here has lived like she has.

You just want to yell for her to stop, to not go through with this, but you can't. You can't do it as publically as you want to. You want to call out her name, but you can't even do that! Fuck what can you do now?

She can't go through with this…you can't let her. You know you're starting to drive yourself crazy trying to quickly think of ways to stop her. She looks over to you again and her brows furrow in confusion. You don't know why.

Getting lost in her eyes again, it feels right.

You're trying, with everything in your body and power, to get her to understand not to go where she is headed. You don't know how to convey that with just a simple fucking facial expression though. You shake your head. It's literally the only thing you can think of.

Your face must have changed emotions to show how you're feeling inside because now her face changes too…the confusion is replaced with what you can only connect to terror. You've never seen that emotion though, because most people here are happy or sad.

"Don't go," you whisper. She blinks and you wonder if she can read lips from how far away she's standing from you. She looks back to the woman at the desk and for a split second you just want to die. But then she looks back at you, her expression has changed again. Even from where you're sitting you can see the tears forming in her eyes. She shrugs her shoulders, but it isn't in the way that she doesn't want to listen to you. She doesn't know how to not go.

You shake your head again, this time from the anguish running through your veins.

You don't know how to stop her either.

She turns her attention back to the woman at the desk who's now speaking to her again. You look down and rake through your jumbled thoughts trying to find out how to stop her.

"What's going to happen to me?"

Her voice startles you, but at the same time you just want to sigh at hearing the sound you thought only angels could produce. You refused to acknowledge how scared her voice sounded.

"I don't know. But it's not good," you reply. You want to say more, you want to reassure her that nothing bad is going to happen. You can't and it's hurting you. It's _killing_ you and now you really know that it's time. "We need to get out of here."

"What?"

"You don't belong here. You need to leave. I need to get you out of here!" You're trying to stay sort of calm. But your voice is betraying you. You're fucking scared and you can see it's scaring her too.

"What about you?"

_What about me_, you think but don't say aloud. The only thing you care about right now is her.

You don't feel your legs straighten so you're standing from my swivel chair. One minute you're behind the desk and the next you're taking her soft hand in yours again and dragging her to the building exit.

"Get out while you can…please," you try to stress. She just needs to fucking leave. "Now!"

"Santana Lopez!" echoes out over the PA system. You both stop at the booming voice. You're only halfway to the door.

S. L.

Santana Lopez.

You want to say her name over and over again. Let it roll off your tongue countless times. Whimper it as she pleases you to your breaking point.

Now isn't the time though.

You need to leave. You start to pull on her arm again.

"I'm not leaving without you," she states as she stands still. You can tell she's not going to move. And by the look on her face, you can see that she's seriously about not leaving without you.

She's brave. She'll have an easier time getting out than you will.

"I can't leave. This is my life. This is where I've been written to be," you tell her. It breaks something within you to say so, but you say it anyway. It's not even what you wanted to say.

You think about all those times you snuck into your father's study. The endless amount of knowledge you gained reading the flowing cursive of your Great-Great Grandfather. You remember reading about your mother, and her mother, and hers as well.

This is your chance though. This is everything you've wanted since discovering those journals. You've been thinking of ways to get out and now she's standing right in front of you, but you're telling her foreign words in your head. You begin to wonder if the people who created you have been inside your head all along as you sat, beginning at just eleven years old, reading about the lives of the normal people located just outside the city limits. You begin to wonder if they let you know all of that stuff for a reason.

You don't know why they would though. If they've gone through great measures to protect the citizens of this place of that knowledge then why would they let _you_ know? You're the blood line of this place.

She's clinging to your hand for dear life and all you want to do is pull her body into yours and hug her tightly. Your ocean eyes are gazing into deep chocolate again and you can feel yourself getting lost. She has this fucking power over you that just stops all rational thought. You start thinking about how much money you have…none. It's all under your bed, stored away for the day you never imagined would be today.

You're not ready for this.

But you find yourself thinking that as long as you're with her, life couldn't be so bad.

Her name echoes in the lobby once more.

The two of you are startled into action again and all of a sudden there are guards running towards you. You curse under your breath before you're running again. You're almost at the door, it's opening, you're running through it.

You're calculating where to go in your head while you never stop running. Her hand stays firmly grasped in yours and you squeeze it every so often, hoping it'll maybe try to get her to run just a little bit faster.

You're cursing the notice you read a month ago about extending the city limits.

You can see the wall though. The brick wall that you've seen your entire life. The brick wall that's never felt as suffocating as it does now. You never really let yourself imagine what you would do if you tried fleeing from this town. You never gave into those nagging thoughts in the back of your head, telling you to go explore beyond city limits.

You're hating yourself now because you know how to get out. You remember reading it in the journals of your ancestors, but you can't fucking remember how to getting out of this goddamn town!

You and Santana are running out of breath, but you continue running until you have to stop at the wall. That doesn't stop you from pacing.

You're thinking.

Remembering.

Doing everything you can to flip through page upon page stored in your internal memory. Your hands are holding your head (it's the first time you've let go of Santana's hand after sprinting out of the HRF. The palms of your hands are digging into your temples, because obviously that's going to make you remember that much faster.

You're gnawing at your bottom lip.

You taste blood.

That's it!

You stop pacing around to look for something sharp on the ground. The best you can find is a sort of pointy rock. You're pressing it into the skin of your palm and before you can draw blood a caramel hand grips your wrist, halting your movement.

"What are you doing?!" Santana exclaims.

"I'm getting us out of here!"

You didn't mean to yell, but it just comes out. She doesn't let go of your grip though. You do the only thing you can think of because even though you thought you lost the guards you can faintly hear their shouting getting closer to where you are.

Your lips press into hers and she stiffens. You press harder and rub your tongue across her bottom lip.

Immediately her hand drops from your wrist and you're pressing the rock deeply into your pale skin. You hiss into the kiss and then you're pulling away to press the heel of your hand to the bricks. At first nothing happens.

You curse under breath because that should have fucking worked.

Santana gasps and suddenly you're watching the wall part. Or disappear. Or something. But you can see the outside.

"When did that wall get there?"

You look at her like she's crazy. But maybe you're the one that's crazy.

All you're thinking about though is that you're free…

You're tugging at Santana's hand again as you see the outline of the guards grow near.

You're passed the wall and pressing your hand to brick once more and the wall is closing again. You let out a sigh of relief and then you're laughing; almost hysterically. You fall to the ground because your body can't hold you up and longer.

You feel Santana kneel down next to you and you look up into her eyes again. You're smiling and she's smiling, even though there's tears streaking down her face. She's leaning down and pressing her lips to yours and you can't imagine feeling anything better.

Your non-bloody hand tangles in her hair. You were right, it is silky. You're pulling her harder against you and you seriously never want this moment to end.

You're fucking free.

"_Mamihlapinatapai,_" you whisper against her lips when she pulls away to inhale a deep, needed breath of air.

She chuckles against your face as she leans down to press your foreheads together. "No wonder you were staring so intently at me that day we first saw each other."

You laugh again when you remember you're free of your predestination. You don't have to marry whatever-his-name-is Abrams and you're never going to see anyone from there ever again (it's not like you had any real friends to begin with).

You think about how fate is a funny thing, because you're running away, outside the only place you've ever know, you're starting a new life. You're starting over. And maybe fate has rewritten your story, but this is how it's supposed to be! You're not being controlled anymore by your crazy ancestors.

You can start your own life finally.

You're laughing again because who fucking said it would be all sunshine and rainbows living in a town where you could be accepted for whom you may be? Even in a town like that you couldn't be yourself. You had to be the person you were written to be.

And now you're going to love this girl and you're probably going to be hated for it.

Some days that hate is going to make you want to hurt yourself and you'll do it, but you'll have someone to love you and protect you from your inner fears.

You'll get a decent job that'll pay you a good amount of money while you go to school to study dance. You'll open up a studio somewhere in the world and you'll be _free_ to do the things you love.

You're thanking Santana for coming into your life. For connecting with you and allowing yourself to see and will something that you never thought you'd be able to have. And you're thanking her for wanting the same thing.

\\

A/N: I'm interested in hearing what you all were thinking while reading this? Please tell me how I did, cause I loved writing in second person! **Thoughts? Questions? Opinions?**


End file.
